Chapter Text
Hirose’s great irritation began at the birthplace of all problems in his world: the school lunch table.
As his legs melded themselves to the plastic top of his cafeteria chair, the loud droning of his friends talking about girls never seemed to end. He had listened attentively at first, but had soon grown restless, instead picking at a stubborn piece of lint stuck to his school pants.
“What about you Hirose?” He tuned in at his name, realizing the group had gone quiet, looking at him with expectation.
Hirose sighed with defeat. He had no clue what they had asked him. With the desire to end the conversation as quickly as possible, he decided to choose the well-trodden path of least resistance: blind agreement.
“Yeah.”
His friend's eyes widened in shock, a chorus of “I told you so!” and “No way man” ringing out. Hirose rang his hands in his lap, fervently wondering what he had just agreed to.
“So who is it?” Takeuchi yelled, moving so uncomfortably close to Hirose he could see a bit of seaweed stuck to his friend's teeth. He tilted his head at the question, pulling as far away as the narrow lunch table allowed him.
“Yeah, if not Hana, who do you like? Mukai chimed in, pounding his fist so quickly into the table his tray beside him jumped a millimeter and threatened to spill.
It took a moment for his friends’ words to sink in, but as soon as they did, a disgusting cocktail of frustration, embarrassment, and fear made its way all the way down to Hirose’s fingertips.
What on EARTH had he just said yes to?
His gaze again found the table in front of him, focusing his eyes on the frayed edges of a sticky chili-sauce stain decorating the middle. He strained to think of a response, but nothing suitable came to mind. He couldn’t just backtrack now, could he? They would most likely accuse him of lying or being too cowardly.
In situations like these in the past, Hirose found himself choosing a ‘decoy’ crush to throw them off his scent, of which Hana was often the unknowing victim. Now that they had broken up, he was drawing a complete blank on what to respond.
“See man, I told you he wouldn’t tell us.” Takeuchi grumbled, dipping the tip of his chopstick repeatedly into his soy sauce. A chorus of disappointed mutters broke out at Takeuchi’s words, and the conversation quickly moved on, leaving Hirose the only straggler suffering in its destructive wake.
He puffed his cheeks in indignation, and moved to pick up his tray and throw the remainder of his lunch in the trash. Conversations like these were the bane of his existence. Didn’t his friends ever think of anything other than girls? It can’t be that exciting.
As he dumps his tray his eyes scan the cafeteria, and fall on the puff of Nakamura-kun’s hair, shining from the fluorescent lighting above. As he bore holes into the back of his friend’s head, he couldn’t help but wonder,
Has he ever had a crush on anyone?
Nakamura-kun never talked to him about girls, it was true. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in anyone.
Curiosity simmered as he watched Nakamura brush the short hairs decorating his neck with his hand, laughing as he chatted with Kawamura. The tips of his ears suddenly grew pink, voices hushed as he leaned over the table to talk closer to their classmate.
With a slight sting to his hands, Hirose realized he was digging his nails into his palms with an iron grip. Nakamura turned progressively more red and moved closer, and a single thought implanted itself in Hirose's mind, stitching into every corner and fold.
Did Nakamura-kun… Like Kawamura?
It bugged him.
The type of irritation that sat underneath your skin and pulled your chest taught, but that wouldn’t just escape with deep breaths or calm words. It was a plea, one that begged and prayed to be answered. But nothing can be answered without first knowing the question of why.
And why was it that it bothered him so much?
As he sat in class, he not-so-subtly stared at Nakamura, gaze glued to the back of his head. The tight feeling in his chest became stronger as he watched Nakamura glance towards Kurosawa. He pulled a thin notebook out of his bag, and once he got Kurasawa’s attention, he gestured silently towards it, smiling broadly and throwing Kurasawa a thumbs-up.
Hirose sucked a gasp through his teeth as he accidentally poked his palm with the sharpened tip of his pencil, not realizing he was even gripping it.
Nakamura turned towards him at the noise, corners of his mouth descending in concern. Hirose internally groaned as felt a pang in his chest.
He folded his arms on the table, sandwiching his face between them. His cheeks were burning both in embarrassment and anger.
Why would Nakamura having a crush bother me? It’s perfectly normal.
He unburied part of his face to glance at Kawamura, poised and attentively watching the front of the class. His gaze lazily traces Kawamura’s eyebrows, small hairs sitting criss-cross and out of order at the ends. This seemed to be the only part of her appearance in disarray.
Turning back to Nakamura again, his attention seemed to be riveted by the small book in front of him. It was the same he had pulled out earlier, and Hirose couldn’t help but wonder about the contents. His mind was running wild with ideas, but none seemed plausibly connected to Kawamura.
He shelved the thought for later, turning back towards the front of the class.
This was going to be a long day.
Hirose threw himself onto his mattress, landing with a soft huff and rolling around, burying his face in his pillow. He turned to lie on his back and stared at the ceiling, listlessly watching as small dapples of light decorated the wall.
His chest was still tight, but he couldn’t quite understand why. He knew it was somehow related to Nakamura, and the talk of crushes, but he couldn’t help but to internally chastise himself for his feelings.
So what if Nakamura likes Kawamura? Why should that be any of my business?
He was essentially thinking in circles, enough to make himself dizzy. Nakamura had never bothered him when he tried (and ultimately failed) to pursue Hana, so he should afford him the same grace.
Kawamura… I mean she’s smart I guess, and funny? She makes him laugh?
He thought back to Nakamura’s smile from class, wishing it hadn’t fallen as soon as he looked at Hirose. He much preferred how he beamed when they were alone on the field trip, eyes scrunched serenely as he stared out at the waves.
He flipped back onto his stomach and reached to grab his phone, craving an answer to the turmoil that had become his thoughts.
“What does it mean if you get upset when your friend has a crush on someone?”
He regrets the words as soon as they’re typed, feeling strange now that they’ve been manifested into reality. Tens of hundreds of hyperlinks begin to pollute his screen. He scans the words of the first website, having to reread the same sentence over and over until the words finally sink in.
“Getting upset when your friend has a crush usually originates from a subconscious shift in your dynamic. Typically, this can be the result of fear of losing their attention, jealousy over shifting priorities, or that you have developed hidden romantic feelings for them.”
Well, that did absolutely nothing to clear it up.
Fear of losing their attention hardly made any sense; Nakamura and Hirose had just freshly declared themselves friends, and hadn’t dedicated much one-on-one time together yet as is.
In terms of jealousy over shifting priorities, the former reason also rang true; although they were good friends now, there was no noticeable shift in priorities of any kind.
And the third reason….
This was the one that puzzled him the most.
Hidden romantic feelings…
Hirose stretched his hand out in front of him, watching the tips of his fingers as he clenched and unclenched his fist.
No matter how he looked at it, it just didn’t make sense. Not only were Hirose and Nakamura just getting to know each other, but they were both guys.
Of course, he acknowledged that it was perfectly natural and normal for people to be gay, but he had never once thought that he liked guys in any capacity.
He thought back to most of the guys he knew, mind tripping on the mental image of Takeuchi’s seaweed-laden teeth and Matsamura’s beastly habit of chewing with his mouth open. He shivered at even the consideration of the two as romantic options.
But Nakamura-kun….
Nakamura was different from his other friends. The day of the field trip Hirose had told him as much.
He loved when the shy and silent Nakamura would let his guard down, eyes sparkling in the luminescent lighting of the aquarium. He liked how his cheeks would pink as he laughed, corners of his eyes crinkled in mirth.
He felt his chest flutter at the memory, easing the earlier tightness. He clamped his hand over his mouth at the feeling, cheeks warmed feverishly.
He giggled, closing his eyes and shaking his head.
Did he… like Nakamura-kun?